SXSW 2010, day two

Thursday, March 18, 2010. Bad self-esteem, good day.

Waking up in a mundane apartment complex feels like a midlife crisis. Surely, someone likes this honeycomb living ... but, who?!

We woke up on the floor of Matt's, a near stranger's, living room, posters of Predator looking down on us. I think I stared at Predator's metal dreadlocks for over 30 minutes trying to decide if I will ever figure out who and/or why such a thing exists. Whatever. Our spines, crooked from sleeping on the floor for two nights. Hair, greasy from time away from showers. Feet, surprisingly fine, but if anything, we'd fuck 'em up by tonight. We had about twenty-five hours of things to do and roughly twenty hours to get 'er done ... member y'all? We're in TEXAS NOW.

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Yapping to each other in our pajamas, yesterday's clothes, and sluggishly packing up our sleeping bags, I could already tell Luke was getting impatient with our sloppy mornings. I'd be annoyed, too ... if I weren't already feeling silly and excited.

Surprisingly (not surprisingly), the trees and sky look exactly the same as in Nuevo Mexico.

And, I guess that's where our group's togetherness veered off into the sewer. If they had canceled SXSW and replaced it with anal bleaching by Southwest (ABXSW), I'd still have a blast (and a lighter ane, but I don't really want one anyhow). Maybe it's my own neuroses and lonely childhood in Moriarty without neighbors, but I get giggly and scatterbrained like I'm falling in love anytime I get to spend a whole day and whole night with my friends. AND THIS WAS FIVE WHOLE DAYS AND FIVE WHOLE NIGHTS! I was punch drunk ... and actually drunk, and hangover drunk, day drunk, etc. And I'm not sure everyones goal was to experience the road trip however it turns out. Some of us were more means to an end and others were more adventure oriented. I sound retarded, let's move on.

After delicious breakfast taco's, free wifi, a quick trip to Walgreens and five or six cups of coffee, we headed over to Motel 6 for check-in and to quickly shower. See, I love you guys so I'm not going to show the photos of us pre-shower. I will say that the camera lens fogged up when I tried to take a group snap. Gross.

Wai- wai- wai- wai- wai- wai- wai- wait, sorry. This is also when we dropped off Luke so he'd at least get a full day of shows. We were living vicariously.

Dropping Rukey off on the frontage road that morning and finally schlepping our packs into the hotel room took three hours. Three hours. THREE HOURSSSSSSSSSSomg why?! We got lost. Really lost. Sitting in the car in the middle of a forest (in the city?) lost. Then found. Then the room wasn't cleaned, yet. Then we picked up a hitchhiker and drove her to Congress. Then traffic. Then lost again. Then, then, then.

I remember looking at that shower and soap like a Simon looking at a Ryan Reynolds movie.

When it was my turn, I didn't wash my hair, I poured Baby Powder on it. And my skin inexplicably smelled like brisket.

FINALLY! LET'S GET DOWNTOWN!

We parked 800 miles away from everything and commemorated it by posing like idiots in a riverside park.

Jay's list of bands to see was written on a receipt taped to a napkin.

The boys drinking brewskis under a bridge.

We convinced ourselves that this was the state flower of Texas.

Where we're sleeping next year.

Still walking...

Ok, getting closer.

WE ARE FINALLY HERE! AT A PARK?!

I'm just going to be an asswipe and say that I was having awful problems with my self-image that day. I don't know why. Looking back on these snaps kind of make it look like I was well-adjusted, but I was having a mini panic attack somewhere behind the eyes. It had a little to do with how many sleazy old men were looking at my chest. Not looking, but face and eyes centered straight into my cleavage, touching their boners. Barf. Seriously, one of the worst feelings ever. It's sort of rude, but when guys my age look at me, I'm like hot shit, but when they're a dads age, it makes me feel used. Marc was nice enough to lend me his flannel to cover up. Still ... it sort of ruined my day.

Eff that, here's some interesting photos from the park we sat in for an hour.

Cute dresses.

We waited in line for wristbands to Levi's Fader bla bla yawn. Marc and I argued, Jay tried to make everyone happy and Lukey ignored us.

Douchebag after douchebag after douchebag. I even ran into the biggest douchebag from Albuquerque here, what's-his-name. Red hair, tall, herpes ...

Get us the eff out of here :(

Either to be funny, ironic, or sincere, we walked over to the abandoned parking lot where Acid Mother Temple was playing that night.

Whoa, is there a ghost coming out of that girl's phone?

My ears had only slightly began bleeding when I decided to leave and walk around Austin by myself. Stupid.

Met up again and went to an unnamed bar where there was some free event. It was 15 blocks away.

This tiny bathroom had a four foot wide hole filled with muddy, brown water in the center of the floor. Glorious.

Cute band.

Exclusively all of my good memories from this day are from hanging out with the guys, waiting for the hotel and sitting outside of a gas station, randomly driving a hitchhiker to the NPR party, taking snaps in a park and walking by myself to the state capital. I was too busy fighting with Marc and feeling worthless during shows to enjoy any music. So, was it a wasted day? No, and that's why you read this dead end blog, I think. No day is ever, ever wasted. And if anything, this crummy day made me crazy-determined to have a good time, get things done the next day that we kind of went overboard ... in a good way. Check back for day three :)